


the broom, flower of the desert

by emeraldsapphic



Series: Gandrew College AU [3]
Category: Gandrew - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Birthday Presents, Fluff, Literature Major!Garrett, M/M, painter!Andrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsapphic/pseuds/emeraldsapphic
Summary: Garrett's birthday is right around the corner and Andrew has absolutely no idea what to paint as his present.Sequel toPlay Date and PrideandPrejudice
Relationships: Andrew Siwicki/Garrett Watts
Series: Gandrew College AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888369
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	the broom, flower of the desert

**Author's Note:**

> i can’t stay away from these two!  
> requested by @hufflepuffheroine on tumblr!  
> this is the third installment in my gandrew college au. garrett is a literature major, andrew is a very talented painter.
> 
> (by the way, just as a heads up, we’re talking about the flower broom, not the broom you use for cleaning, lmao)
> 
> enjoy!

Andrew sighed in defeat. He was never going to finish the present for Garrett.

He stared at the blank canvas in front of him. The chatter of his classmates buzzed in his ears, he glanced around the room, everyone seemed to be busy finishing up the two-weeks project they were assigned about ten days before.  
Of course, Andrew had already finished it, and equally as obvious had been the perfect grade be received for it.

“Hey, Andrew. Are you having any issues with whatever you’re working on?” His teacher, Ms. Potts, asked with a gentle smile on her face.

Andrew fought with everything he had the urge to roll his eyes. Andrew appreciated his teachers a lot, and Ms. Potts was no different, but he hated how his teachers treated him. He despised being considered a prodigy child, it reminded him of his parents.

_“Andrew, can I ask you a question?” Garrett inquired, twirling the straw in his iced coffee._

_“Of course.” Andrew was sitting on the sidewalk, curiously looking to his right, trying to decipher Garrett’s expression._

_“Ricky told me you’re some kind of art prodigy.”_

_Andrew laughed and shook his head, of course, Ricky had. “I guess that’s what people like to say.”_

_“So why are you in a normal college? I am sure plenty of academies would have gladly accepted you.”_

_Andrew bitterly laughed. Of-fucking-course. “Nah, I never wanted to be a prodigy. I want to be an artist, artists don’t wear uniforms and don’t conform to academic standards.”_

_Garrett beamed. “You’re so interesting, dude.”_

_“I am not really. Besides, my parents already hate me for being bisexual, might as well make them hate me for not living up to their standards.”_

_“You’re living up to your own standards, and that’s all that matters.”_

Andrew let out the breath he was keeping in, getting defensive with his teachers would bring him nowhere. Besides, even with the number of issues he had with his family, his parents had raised him better than that.

“I actually am.”

“Oh, that’s a first.”

“Yup.”

“Can I help you with anything?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to make a gift for someone special, but I’m not sure what to paint.”

“Well, is there any moment you’d like to have her remember?”

Andrew cringed at the ‘her’. “Actually, it’s for my boyfriend.” He didn’t need to tell her that, but he really wanted to. He had been ashamed of his sexuality for too long.

“Oh. Sorry, Andrew, I didn’t mean to assume! I saw you with a girl a while ago, I thought it was for her.”

Andrew had to admit that maybe Ms. Potts wasn’t that bad.

“That’s fine. We broke up a while ago.”

“What’s your boyfriend’s name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Garrett. And I don’t mind.”

“What does he like?”

“Uhm?”

“What are his interests? I am not prying, Andrew. Talking about him  
might bring out some ideas.”

“O-oh. Thank you. Well, he loves literature. Especially Latin and Italian literature. He loves reading. If he’s not writing essays he’s reading. I feel he’d leave me for a good classic.” Andrew chuckled.

“Mhh.” The teacher smirked. “I’ll let you think about it then. It seems like you’re on the right path.”

“What? You’re not helping me?”

“It’s not my boyfriend, Andrew. Besides, you should never get between an artist and their canvas.”

 _Artist_. Andrew preferred it to ‘child prodigy’ or ‘gifted painter’.

Andrew thought about the latest books Garrett had read.  
He remembered _The Passion of Artemisia_ and how it kept Garrett glued to itself, _Narcissus and Goldmund_ , and Garrett’s long rants on how he had wished the story had progressed faster and how wasted all of its homoeroticism had been. He had even reread _Pride and Prejudice_ , despite his initial disappointment in its pace.

He groaned. Books weren’t going to help him apparently.  
What about poems?

He started to mentally go through all of Garrett’s favorite Latin authors. He couldn’t have gotten anything appropriate from Petronius or Catullus. He thought about the _carpe diem_ guy ***1** , but the thought of white snowy scenarios bored him already.  
What about Italian ones?

_Definitely not D’Annunzio._

He remembered a Leo-something guy Garrett worshipped. He could do something inspired by him, he thought.

His eyes widened. “The broom.” He apparently said out loud, judging by the looks his classmates gave him.

He blushed out of embarrassment as he tried to remember what the poem was about, but as much as he tried to piece together something useful, his mind was blank and he could not remember anything.

He walked over to Miss Potts. “Can I use my phone to look up some reference?”

She lifted her eyes from the book she was reading and glared at Andrew. “You must know by now that you are my favorite student, Andrew. But still, I can’t let you.”

Andrew’s shoulders dropped. For once that he wanted to make use of his prodigy-privilege!

“But, if you really need to go to the bathroom, or get some fresh air, since you’re already finished with your project then I will let you.”

Andrew grinned and nodded understandingly.

###### 

Andrew was sitting by a tree, frantically tapping the back of his phone as his browser was processing his search.  
_The Broom_.

He had remembered the name of the poem just because Garrett had made a really stupid joke on how “ _A man never forgets his first broom!_ ”

He found the poem, it was also called _The Flower of the Desert_ , and its author was a certain Giacomo Leopardi. Andrew was intrigued, so started to read its translation.

He didn’t quite grasp the true meaning of the whole lyric, the poem was harder than what Andrew was used to reading, and it was way too long for his tastes, but a few verses right at the start struck his interest the most.

> _Now all around  
>  is one ruin,  
>  where you root, gentle flower, and as though  
>  commiserating with others’ loss, send  
>  a perfume of sweetest fragrance to heaven,  
>  that consoles the desert._

He had to draw the flowers! He just had to! So he looked up pictures of brooms and of the volcano cited in the poem, the Vesuvius. He started to sketch the two elements by themselves. He would think about the positioning later in class.

Andrew finished his quick sketch and ran back to class.

He gave his teacher an appreciative nod and went back to his own station.

He closed his eyes and started figuring out what he wanted to do with those two elements.  
A broom and a volcano.

It took Andrew about 3 days to finish the sketch in class and be happy with it. He was a perfectionist when it came to Garrett‘s presents.

He smiled at the realization that he could finally attempt his favorite part: coloring.

Andrew was an amazing colorist, he loved painting more than he loved drawing or sculpting.  
He also loved high contrasts, and a bright yellow flower in the middle of a deserted, dusty, and desolated atmosphere, like the one caused by the volcano, was just what he wanted.

He played a lot with different colors on the side, trying to come up with interesting and original combinations of colors.

It took him two days to finish the painting, a bit earlier than he had predicted. Inspiration had hit him as soon as he had envisioned the right shade of yellow he wanted to use.

He mostly used sunflower and Tuscany yellow for the petals, but instead of shading with an ochre, which would have made his flower less vivid and more realistic, he decided to shade with goldenrod and highlight with a pale tea green.  
The background had been easier, he had filled it with dark, heavy colors, all mixed quite casually.

He stepped back and admired his creation.

Each and every mosaic-tile brushstroke was highly pigmented and rich. He was proud of himself and was sure Monet would have been, too. ***2**

###### 

A long never-ending week passed and Andrew couldn’t wait to show Garrett his birthday present.

They had gone out to celebrate with a bunch of their friends all afternoon, leaving the evening free for themselves.

“I love you so much, you know that?”

“I do, baby, but it’s your special day today, not mine.”

“You’re right it is my day and that’s why I’m so glad I get to spend it with you.”

“Are you acting all sweet just so you can get your birthday present?”

Garrett smirked. “What kind of present are we talking about, huh?”

“Shut up!” Andrew blushed. “I mean your proper one.”

“Aww,” Garrett complained.

Andrew gasped, “Fine! If you don’t want it, I could always sell it and make loads of money.”

Garrett laughed and grabbed Andrew’s wrist, pulling him closer. “I was kidding, love. Of course, I can’t wait to see it.”

Andrew’s heartbeat spiked up, doubt crawling in his mind, breaking all the confidence he had had when he had shown it to Ms. Potts.

“Close your eyes.”

“Oo, a game, I like it.”

“Ok, you can open them now.”

“Andrew! Is it a mirror? You know I hate those.”  
Garrett laughed at Andrew’s glare.

“Oh my God, Andrew,” Garrett whined. "I can’t believe you made me a painting! I am gonna cry!”

“Are you going to open it or?”

“Yeah, yeah!”  
Garrett ripped the wrapping paper on the painting and gasped.  
“Nooo, Andrew! You didn’t!” Garrett shrieked, his eyes widened.

“Do you like it?” Andrew asked, his voice small and unsure.

“Oh my God, I love it! I can’t believe you painted Leopardi’s broom, because that’s what it is, right?”

Andrew laughed. “Yes.”

“I love it so much. It’s the best birthday present!”

Andrew smiled, glad that his boyfriend liked the broom painting. He was brought in for a kiss between Garrett’s strong arms.

“Andrew!” Garrett dragged his name out. “I love you so much! You’re my Antonio Ranieri!”

“Who?”

“Leopardi’s presumed, bisexual lover!”

Andrew laughed.

Some things would never change.

> _And you, slow-growing broom,  
>  who adorn this bare landscape  
>  with fragrant thickets,  
>  you too will soon succumb  
>  to the cruel power of subterranean fire,  
>  that, revisiting places  
>  it knows, will stretch its greedy margin  
>  over your soft forest. And you’ll bend  
>  your innocent head, without a struggle,  
>  beneath that mortal burden:  
>  yet a head that’s not been bent in vain  
>  in cowardly supplication  
>  before a future oppressor: nor lifted  
>  in insane pride towards the stars,  
>  or beyond the desert, where  
>  your were born and lived,  
>  not through intent, but chance:  
>  and you’ll have been so much wiser  
>  so much less unsound than man, since you  
>  have never believed your frail species,  
>  can be made immortal by yourself, or fate. _

**Author's Note:**

>  **1*** “carpe diem guy” is Latin poet Horatius, and famous saying is from the poem Odi, 1, 11  
>  **2*** Claude Monet, the most influential painter of the Impressionist movement. The mosaic-tile brushstroke is a technique used by Monet in all of his paintings.
> 
> Verses cited are from “La Ginestra” “The Broom” by Giacomo Leopardi.  
> Respectively verses 1-6 and verses 297-317.
> 
> feedback always helps! :)


End file.
